Time's Spinning Gears
by Port in the Storm
Summary: Minato, in the shinigami's stomach, sees what should have never been allowed to happen. Naruto, killed at 11 years old. The shinigami gives him a choice. Go into his son's body, and act as him, or remain as a dead spirit. Minato chooses the obvious.
1. Prologue: A Meeting With Fate

Prologue: A Meeting with Fate

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Naruto in any way, shape, or form.

* * *

Minato's eyes widened.

A boy, no more than eleven years old, with blond hair and bright blue eyes, dulled in death, lay broken, bleeding in a dark alley.

Naruto. His son.

_No._

The guilt Minato felt as he sealed the Kyuubi away in his son rushed forward, engulfing him like a tsunami. It had slowly eaten away at him from the beginning, starting from the minor mistreatment at the orphanage, worsening at the contempt the villagers openly showed for Naruto, and it drowned Minato now. The guilt, the aching pain in his chest, despite his lack of a body weighed him down with every movement in the heavy darkness in the Shinigami's stomach. Every day on his birthday, Naruto was beaten if he went out. This time, they had killed him.

Villagers. Drunk. They joined in with the celebrations, feasting, _drinking_, entertaining murderous thoughts about the nine-tailed demon fox. So they joined together, and hunted Naruto.

It was always during a festival that was supposed to celebrate their precious Yondaime defeating the Kyuubi. Minato snorted. He had never been able to truly defeat the Kyuubi, only seal it away. Even now, it mocked him, making the life of his son a pale shadow of what it should have been.

How _dare _they. How _dare _they. Mistreat his only living relative, would they? Completely ignore his dying wish, would they?

Then, Minato would calm down. Remember that they were drunk civilians. Not trained to keep their wits under the influence of alcohol. Didn't know any better. Couldn't protect themselves from the full killing intent of the Kyuubi. Civilians. So they hurt the demon fox in the only way they knew how. Minato would remind himself, and calm down. They only ever beat Naruto during the festival. It could have been worse.

But this time, they crossed the line. They _killed _him. Naruto. That cheerful boy that never cried. His son, the son he desperately wanted to comfort, to whisper in his ear that it was ok, that it was safe, that he would be alright.

If Minato ever went down there, if there wasn't anything stopping him from doing so, if he had not lived and died for Konoha, he would have killed them. He would kill damned _idiots_ who couldn't see past the civilian council's lies, and then he'd murder the council too. But because he loved Konoha, because he vowed to protect it, he couldn't avenge his son. Wouldn't. Besides, Minato was dead. He'd be able to do nothing anyways.

He stared down at Hi no Kuni, searching for the few faces that cared. Sarutobi. Umino Iruka, the kind Academy teacher. Tesuchi and Ayame, one of the few people who gave Naruto food at a reasonable price. Kakashi, Minato's student and previously one of Naruto's ANBU guards. The silver-haired ex-ANBU was always so traumatized by Minato's death, and by Obito's, and by Rin's, but now….well, Kakashi would be ripped apart from the inside if he knew that Naruto was dead. The living legacy of his Sensei, dead. Kakashi would have to deal with it now, alone, suffering from the weight of the guilt he never had to bear. Survivor's guilt.

Minato watched the Sandaime furiously gesturing for medic nin. The panic, the sadness, the pain, were all clear in the old Hokage's eyes. The man was getting far too old to bear the burdens of an entire country, the and the emotional weight of being Hokage. Sarutobi still thought that Naruto was alive, apparently, by the way the man gently picked up Naruto's body and lifted it to a stretcher himself.

A small flame of hope flickered in Minato, before he ruthlessly squashed it. He could feel it. The Shinigami had shifted, talking to the person of interest it had to escort to either heaven or the netherworld. It was talking about him, the Yondaime. Of course. Naruto. The Shinigami would tell the boy about who his parents were, about everything in his life that was kept a secret, before sending Naruto to heaven.

Minato wished that Naruto would eventually forgive him, no matter how hopeless it sounded.

Minato refocused on the scene below. Where the hell was Jiraiya? The man he had trusted to keep an eye on Naruto. It didn't matter if the Toad Sannin had a spy network to attend to, that Minato could understand, but why didn't the Toad Sannin at least stop by on Naruto's birthdays? Or for a week every year? Why didn't the man make sure that Naruto was well cared for and taught the ninja arts? Why?

Oh, Jiraiya would pay if he ever got his hands on him.

Minato released his connection with the human world, and the colored scene of Naruto's death faded away, replaced with the heavy darkness of the Shinigami's stomach. As he glanced around, Minato was reminded why he hated the color black. It was a dark, depressing shade that drowned every other color, reducing the vibrancy of even bright shades like yellow and orange and red. _Like the shade of Naruto's hair, like the color of his eyes, like the orange he loved so much. _

Minato collapsed, the shock receding as the reality of Naruto's death hit him. He remembered Naruto's death, the blood seeping sluggishly out of wounds, the red staining the bright yellow hair so much like Minato's own. He couldn't cry anymore. When he had first come into the endless darkness of the Shinigami's stomach, he had wept bitterly over Kushina's death. Now…Minato simply could not cry anymore. He was numb, aching. It was worse than the feeling after his first kill in ANBU, on a mission to kill the ten year old daughter of a ruling lord because she knew too much. It felt like his soul was being ripped out again, except more slowly, more painfully.

Damnit. _Damn it. _He still couldn't do anything. Despite his Hiraishin, despite his stupid SS-class ranking, despite him being internationally acknowledged as the strongest ninja in history, Minato could do nothing to protect his son.

He simply stood there, and stared blankly out into the inky darkness.

The Shinigami himself was having a little problem of his own.

After all, killing off the only other person mentioned in the Toads' prophecy and destined to literally turn the Shinobi world on its head would have a few repercussions. Well, orders were orders, and Kami was insistent. She did, after all, want to save an innocent boy, Uzumaki Naruto, from a lifetime of suffering. Unfortunately, there was only one other person that was referred to in the Toad prophecy that he could put in Naruto's place.

Namikaze Minato. The boy's father.

Who was currently stewing in the Shinigami's stomach. Bit of a problem. It always required some sort of contract to get in and out of the death god's stomach, and the in part of the contract was fairly simple. Call up death god, request favor, have your soul devoured. Getting out was a bit more complicated.

Firstly, the soul had to agree to get out. While usually getting the soul to agree would be fairly simple, it not likely in this case considering the state Namikaze was in. Secondly, there had to be a fresh body with no lethal wounds for the soul to go in. That would not be a problem, as Naruto's original body was currently lacking a soul at the moment, and the only thing keeping it alive was the Shinigami's power. And thirdly,as a sort of "apology" for eating the person's soul, the death god had to give a kekkai genkai to the person. Again, a stupid order from Kami. He didn't think that anyone would have to be let out of his stomach, so he agreed instantly. Now, the Shinigami was thinking better of it. How long had Kami had this planned?

The Death God sighed. How to go about this…?

Minato brushed the hair out of his eyes. Being isolated from everyone, trapped in the death god's stomach, was probably one of the worst punishments he could think of. He couldn't meet with Naruto. Kushina and Obito and everyone he had ever known would be lost to him forever, even in death. Besides that was the sheer _loneliness _of it all.

It was terrible, being absolutely, utterly alone.

He had been the Hokage. He had gotten used to being alone.

Oh, there were his wife, family, and friends, but none of them really knew the weight of being a leader, the one that could lead them to their very deaths. The position of the Hokage was both a blessing and a curse.

None of that compared to now. Utterly isolated from any human contact, Minato knew that if he had not been able to Konoha below, he would have gone mad. He remembered that when he first got here, he would have _begged _for any type of voice, for something that spoke to him, reminded him that he was not by himself. None came, so in the end, Minato ended up watching Konoha.

So imagine his surprise when the Shinigami spoke to him.

"Human. Namikaze. " The voice reverbeated in the darkness.

Minato wondered what the hell the Shinigami wanted with him. Maybe it had something to do with Naruto? "Hai, Shinigami-sama."

The Shinigami paused for a second. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with grieving fathers. Usually when people died, he told them about their lives before the shock wore off, sent them on their way, and that was it. Ah well, he'd just be blunt and wing it. "Namikaze Minato. Kami had asked me to take your son from the human realm so he wouldn't have to suffer. With his personality, he would only hurt himself. The others around him could hurt him, betray him, but Naruto will forgive and forget if they repent. However, he will still have the mental scars. He is innocent, naïve. Too trusting. So Kami took him away from the mortal world."

So it was the work of a god. Minato now knew the reasons for the Shinigami taking Naruto, but why was it telling him this? He nodded and remained silent. From what Minato knew, the opportunities and the chances Naruto might have had were taken from him by the gods, and Naruto would not be able to prove himself to Konoha now. Minato was kind of pissed. There was really no point in yelling at the gods, though, especially if they could wipe you out with a flick of their finger.

Soo….was the human going to say anything? This was awkward. Eep! Namikaze was staring a hole in his stomach lining. Not good. The Shinigami hated indigestion. He cleared his throat. "Well, my apologies, but the only one who can take your son's place is you."

Cue absolute shock. "Wha- but- take his place? Shinigami-sama, what do you mean?" Minato spluttered.

The Shinigami rolled his eyes. "You will go into your son's body and act as him. You can live in the mortal world again. After you die, you can go up and talk with your human friends."

Ok. Now that seemed like a sweet deal. But the only thing he really wanted to do was to go and talk with Kushina and to explain himself to Naruto. But that would only after he killed Naruto's body again. Minato couldn't do that.

"I'm sorry, Shinigami-sama-"

"You can change the opinions of your son. You can make his name honored and remembered instead of forgotten and hated." The Death god interrupted. Namikaze had to agree, or Kami would put the Shinigami through the grinder again for failing her orders. Not pretty.

Minato hesitated. That's right. He could change Naruto's life. If Naruto died now, he would die hated, and his death would be rejoiced. Minato did not want that. "Well-"

"You can help Naruto achieve his goal of being Hokage."

That pretty much sealed it for Minato. Naruto had so desperately wanted to be recognized, and even if it felt like cheating because Naruto didn't actually do it, Minato owed it to his son. Besides, Konoha was slipping. The Sandaime was so old, and he was not omniscent. Minato would change Konoha, even if in the guise of his son. No matter how gross it sounded. Stealing a body? It seemed like something Orochimaru would do. Eeew. "I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?"

The Shinigami sighed in relief. The soul had agreed! Now, for the Kekkai Genkai thing. "Good. Now, because you are leaving my stomach, I have to give you a Kekkai Genkai. Don't worry about it. Oh yes, and don't forget the rules and regulations. Number one: don't let anyone besides Hatake, Jiraiya, and Sarutobi find out about you in Naruto's body until after you graduate. Number two: Only tell others on a need to know basis. Number three: Please get rid of Madara for me, will you? That's all, Namikaze! And now…" A bit of minor grumbling was heard, involving "I've never had to do this before," and "this is taking too long!"

Minato spoke up. "Err, Shinigami-sama?..." He really needed to know more. Experimenting with an unknown Kekkai Genkai could kill him.

"Got it!" The Shinigami exclaimed triumphantly.

Before he could speak another word, Minato was yanked out by a strange, bony hand, and thrown out into a blinding white light. He blacked out.

**Author's Notes:**

Haha, well, to those who have read the original prologue, I've changed it. What do you think of the edited version?

To new readers of this story, please read this story and enjoy!

**Reviews motivate me. **


	2. Awake, Alive, Aware

Time's Spinning Gears

Chapter 1- Awake, Alive, Aware

Warnings: Mild Violence, Possible Swearing, AU

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. This is a nonprofit work.

--o0oOOOo0o—

When Minato woke, the first thing he saw was a fuzzy white blob that might have been a ceiling.

He watched the blob, bemused, as it changed forms from rabbits to cats to distorted faces, and finally, a certain student's mop of irrepressible grey hair. That was a bit much. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, allowing the sharp corners and contrasting gray shadows of the walls to come into focus. He breathed, finally smelling the scent of antiseptic that permeated the air. He was in the hospital.

Minato shivered against the air that swirled around him, snuggling deeper into the white sheets. He was perfectly content to lay here, warm, comfortable, and _alive. _

It hit him then.

He was alive. Not a dead soul in the Shinigami's stomach, not a mere ghost of what he was, but a living, breathing human boy. Alive.

It was a strange concept, Minato mused, especially after being dead for so long. He inhaled the warm air, reveling in the sensation. He could breathe again.

He listened carefully for the hustle and bustle of the hospital, absorbing every new sound, smell, and touch like a starving man. He no longer walked in a black, empty, silent void; he instead lay in the relatively peaceful silence of his room in Konoha General Hospital. It was only four, bare white walls with one door, a boring brown table, a dull tan chair, and a cold gray filing cabinet, but Minato couldn't be happier.

"I'm alive..." He whispered. It was like a dream. He trailed a hand along the brushed metal railing of his small hospital bed, about the size of a large cot. An IV bag filled with a clear liquid hung on a movable stand next to him, letting his (_Naruto's, _he insisted) body get the liquids it needed. He poked at the needle in the vein of his right arm, wincing at the sharp, burning sensation. _Pain, _his mind told him.

It had been a long time since he had encountered any real physical pain, he reflected- _Blood, his mind sang, and the red liquid coated the ground and the Iwa nin's bodies, and flowed out of the wound in his side, covering everything in a heavy fog of crimson- a fox chuckled malevolently, tearing down Konoha, bodies bubbling from the heat of its corruptive chakra, frail as the ash that choked the sky_. He slammed down his mental barriers, calling on a power he didn't know he had. A pale yellow seared behind his eyes, blocking off the red demonic chakra and the fox's howl of rage, cursing its sealer. _Kekkai Genkai, _his traitorous mind supplied. So that was it, he thought dully. The Shinigami's gift.

He honestly wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not. On one hand, he had never wanted to be alive again in the first place, getting a second chance when Naruto could not. On the other, he wanted- no, needed this closure.

For twelve years, ten months, ten days, eleven hours and twenty-seven minutes, he had remembered, suffered, and never allowed himself to forget. _Kushina. Naruto. Jiraiya. Sarutobi. Kakashi. _The five people he left behind, whom he treasured most. He missed Kushina, her bright, beautiful scarlet hair and her twinkling green eyes and her cheerful optimism, and when she died, the sky faded to an ashen grey in his world. He'd failed Naruto, when he found that the village treated him like trash to be tossed out on the streets. Then Naruto was stolen into the void, too, and the sun vanished. The Sandaime stayed alive, mired in a sea of politics and black treachery. Jiraiya was still wandering, lost after the death of his student. And Minato cried for Kakashi, when the boy refused to do so himself. Cold, stoic, and utterly broken, hidden away behind a mask so fragile that if anyone cared to look, it would shatter into a million pieces. He was twenty-six, now, was it? And still as stubbornly dense as ever.

Kakashi clung to his guilt and insecurities the same way he clung to his carefully constructed shields. Beneath the outer, porcelain shell there was an even stronger one beneath. If you got too close, saw his true feelings, a stony, solid wall rose and harshly shoved you away. He would reject you, drive you away until you were blinded by anger, and you no longer cared. He lived for the people in the past, for his promises to the dead, and for his obligations in the present. The only ones to ever make a door through this last defense, who persevered and prevailed, were Obito, Jiraiya, Kushina, and Minato himself. Minato hated masks. He was sick of them.

Every time he used them, or someone precious to him used them, a deep, aching pain buried itself in his chest and worked its way into his throat until he couldn't breathe and nearly choked on his words. It never showed, though. He was the Hokage. He was a shinobi.

It hurt the most when Naruto used the masks.

Minato closed his eyes.

Naruto.

His cover was a completely different one than Kakashi's; then again, he was a completely different kind of person. It was far harder to see.

The only way Minato knew about it was because Kushina used to have the same one. Kakashi had exchanged his cold façade for this one as well. Minato used it himself, when he had been alive.

It showed in Naruto's bright grin, blocking out anything else you might have seen.

It stood out in the false cheeriness of the sky-blue eyes.

The façade crumbled when Naruto slumped at the ramen stand, disheartened and disillusioned by the villagers. Iruka slowly ground away the obscuring hard stone, revealing soft gold beneath when tears pricked at the corners of Naruto's eyes, even when the boy was grinning madly, willing the pain away. Iruka knew Naruto's pain, and helped him through it. Minato was grateful for that comfort, at least.

It hurt him more than Naruto would ever know.

Minato vowed to change the way the villagers saw Naruto. He _would _make them accept the Kyuubi jinchuriki, and they would swallow it, the bitter pill, like it or not. He reminded himself, again, that killing the various citizens of Konoha would not endear him to them- _the fox jumped forwards and offered terrible power, scenes of bloody carnage flashing before his eyes as Konoha was set aflame by demonic chakra- _Minato forced the fox back again, a wave of yellow sweeping away the scene, as if it had never been there.

Minato settled back into his pillows, exhausted. Holding the fox's mind back took a lot out of him. He looked at the seal now imprinted on his stomach; it had weakened ever so slightly. Minato sighed, relieved. At least Naruto had never had to deal with this.

He cursed the fox, cursed the stupidity of humanity in general, and cursed Uchiha Madara to an eternity in hell. It was all the man deserved. He finally turned his thoughts in a less violent direction, wondering exactly where the hell Jiraiya was, anyway. He had been named Naruto's Godfather, so where was he?

Minato jumped, abruptly startled out of his reverie when someone knocked at his door and entered. His senses were far below what they used to be; he'd have to work on that.

The nurse there smiled kindly, and pity was the only emotion apparent in her eyes. Minato remembered her; she was the one who treated Naruto after he was beaten. He forced himself to recall that not all citizens deserved to die a painful death.

"Naruto?" She questioned gently. Her voice was soft, kind, and reassuring, with no trace of deception.

Minato blinked and turned to face her, surprise and relief overtaking the nurse's features. "Nurse-san?"

"You're awake!" She smiled happily. Her nametag read, Yumi Namiko.

"What happened?" Minato inquired.

"You were beaten again, during the festival." Namiko explained. She held a clipboard, with Naruto's stats and injuries written out for her to read.

_Again. _Had it really happened enough to be a regular occurrence? Minato stayed silent.

"You were in a coma for three days," she continued, "with extensive bruising, and mild internal bleeding." A hint of venom entered her voice. "They were executed, as per the orders of the Sandaime."

Minato, once more, remained quiet. He wasn't sure how Naruto would react to this situation. He always cut the connection to the living world whenever Naruto was beaten.

"Are you alright?' Namiko asked. Normally, the boy was much louder, and more exuberant.

Minato's thoughts ground to a halt. The first thing he blurted out was, "I missed three days of ramen?!" It exactly matched the incredulous and shocked tone Naruto might've taken. Minato was half-surprised at how well he imitated Naruto's actions.

The nurse laughed, wondering why she ever worried in the first place. _That _was what he'd noticed? Naruto was absolutely fine. "Okay, I'll bring some ramen up for you to eat soon. Your 'old man'," Her eyes twinkled mischievously, "will be coming over to take you home later." Her amusement gained by calling the Hokage an old man was obvious.

Minato pouted, following the actions of a body he didn't really know. "I'll take that hat from jiji one day! Believe it!" It felt so… foreign to have those happy, naive words pass through his mind. He'd been a Kage before, and he was prepared to do it again, if only to help Naruto… and _maybe _Konoha.

She chuckled softly as she checked his heart and brain activity monitor, removing the IV and handing him a glass of water instead. "Drink," she ordered. He did so obediently.

He'd had the ire of the hospital staff brought down on him one time when he had Hiraishin'd away from the place. Needless to say, Minato didn't do it again.

The nurse left, to go buy some Ichiraiku's ramen, he assumed, and Minato was once more left to his thoughts.

--o0oOOOo0o—

Hiruzen Sarutobi.

The Sandaime Hokage, leader of Konohagakure.

He was old, and weary, and tired. Age spots decorated the wrinkled skin, the crinkles around his eyes and the frown lines around his mouth showing like on crumpled paper. White hair hung hidden by the wide brim of the Hokage's hat, and the fabric draped beneath it. He was stooped, hunched over, and decrepit, but nothing reduced the piercing intensity of his gaze. The Professor, indeed.

Namiko reported. "Hokage-sama, there seems to be no lasting repercussions of this incident, despite the coma. He is acting as he usually does."

Sarutobi nodded, trusting her. She had been the most understanding medic nin of the Hospital at the time, so he had assigned her to the care of what many referred to as, 'the demon brat'. She met his expectations and treated Naruto with kindness, and later, sympathy after she learned of the many injuries he acquired over the years.

"Perhaps I'll come in to visit later, after I finish this report." He said, gesturing at the lengthy scroll partially unrolled on his oak desk. "Meanwhile, has Ibiki finished the interrogations yet?"

"Yes, he has, Hokage-sama. One was found to be an Iwa-nin spy." The first two had had answers quickly wrested from them, then were quietly executed and their bodies returned to their families. However, the third put up an inordinate amount of resistance for a seeming civilian, and was put through torture designed to break shinobi. He had been given a mission to kill the Kyuubi Jinchuriki, and had been the one to strike the near-fatal blow that left Naruto into a coma.

The Sandaime nodded, wearily. "I know. That is what this report is about. Apparently, Iwa has been more active than we would like."

She inclined her head. "Indeed."

"Well, inform me of anything that might indicate the seal breaking. The coma could have weakened his mental state, allowing the Kyuubi through. Behavior like sudden temper, hate, and resentment appearing is to be reported immediately. Anything else could be because of his coma." Sarutobi ordered. "Thank you. You may leave now."

Namiko disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Sarutobi scanned the scroll, noting that the Iwa chunin's named backup, when investigated, showed that no one was actually there. It worried Sarutobi that Iwa would go so far as to send a chunin on a suicide mission for seeming revenge, especially as the Iwa plant had only been there for a few days. He would have been caught within the week by ANBU; he had been on the watch list. If the chunin had managed to get any word back to Iwa that the Kyuubi jinchuriki looked like a clone of the Yellow Flash… The Tsuchikage would put two and two together, knowing the character of the Yondaime, and send ninja after ninja to kill the child of Iwa's Bane.

The Sandaime wrote out a scroll that authorized upped security and more ANBU patrols. He wasn't about to fail Minato or the boy he loved like a grandson now.

--o0oOOOo0o—

Minato glanced around the plain room, sighing. How long did it take to go buy ramen? Definitely not thirty minutes. At most, twenty. The ramen stand was only a few minutes away, after all. He considered escaping, but then rejected the idea. While the doctors and nurses he saw coming in and out of the room only looked at him with pity, it was still dangerous, Minato thought bitterly. Best to stay in the room.

He hated hospitals.

Ninja in general hated hospitals, and that included Minato.

To the poor medic nin having a bad day, it seemed that everyone hated hospitals.

It was half true.

Civilians saw one side. They saw the part that healed, that comforted, that always had a cure. Civilians didn't die daily. They didn't have a class-three burn covering seventy-five percent of their bodies. They didn't have their guts pouring out through a stomach wound. But even they were uncomfortable if family members had to stay. They got worried.

Ninjas…saw black. They saw hopelessness, despair, death, and darkness. They were reminded again and again, of their own mortality, and faced it. Every. Single. Day. Friends died, comrades died, people lost their lives in the sterile white rooms. When ninjas went into the hospital, often the only way they came out was in ashes or a coffin. That was the reality ninjas believed in, and battlefield medic nins understood that. They still dragged ninjas back to the hospital, though, despite all resistance and insisted perfect health. It was their job to keep them alive, and they would damn well do it.

Minato laughed each and every time Kakashi escaped, and he chuckled wistfully every time they dragged him back, drugging him with a level of morphine that non-trained people would have died from.

He stared, eyes blank, body shaking with suppressed grief and rage, when they took Naruto into the white building. And he would relax fully for the first time in ages when he finally scampered out again, bouncing cheerfully in front of an amused Sandaime... off to go get ramen.

Minato glanced at the clock, noting the time. Forty minutes past one. He was hungry, he noticed, when his stomach started to growl.

A click of the lock on the door told him someone was coming in, and honed instincts said to hide. He stayed still, however, when Namiko appeared, holding a bag of takeout. "Sorry," she apologized. "The line was really long."

"It's all right, Nurse-san." Minato said quietly. He was preoccupied, and so didn't see the narrowed glance Namiko sent his way when Naruto's usual exuberance was lacking from his words.

He eagerly wolfed down the miso ramen. He liked the stuff, no matter how much it drove up his blood pressure. Kushina had _loved _it. It was a miracle, in his opinion, that she hadn't had a heart attack in the twenty-some years she had been alive. He ruthlessly squashed the pang of sadness that rose, constricting his throat.

Namiko sat there for awhile, watching him, a contemplative look in her eye, until she glanced at her watch, gasping at the time. "I have to go now, Naruto. Bye!" She left hurriedly, and the door shut with a loud slam behind her.

Minato put down his chopsticks, bewildered. Glancing up at the clock, he noticed that it was time for the night shift to come, and for the day shift to leave. Namiko probably had a date, or something. He laughed at the thought.

If it was this late already, Minato mused, Sarutobi would be coming soon. Or, at least he hoped so. If he had to stay another day here, awake and perfectly healthy, then he would leave, whether they liked it or not.

He finished his ramen, drinking the rest of the broth and placing the bowl on the bedside table. He twirled the chopsticks in his hand absentmindedly, staring at the door.

When Sarutobi finally arrived, Minato leapt out of the bed and flung his arms around the old man. "Jiji! Finally! Can I go home now?" The happiness he felt was real, and genuine not just an act. He was truly glad to see the man alive and well, leading Konoha. It had been so long…

"Naruto, I think you can let go now." The Sandaime chuckled softly, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately. Minato sighed letting go of the man's robes, reminding himself that _everyone _saw him as a child. An eleven year old boy. A freakin' kid. Yay, he got to live through puberty again…

Sarutobi mistook the scowl on Minato's face for irritation. Naruto must really dislike having his hair ruffled, he thought. Ah, well, the Sandaime mentally shrugged. As long as he was around, Naruto would have to put up with it. "So, are you ready to go now?"

Nodding enthusiastically, as Naruto was wont to do, Minato dashed through the hospital, knowing its ins and outs by heart. The Sandaime trailed him, eyes twinkling in amusement at the boy's excitement.

When they got outside, the Sandaime took hold of his hand protectively, which Minato thought was odd until he noticed the hate-filled glances the occasional villager gave him. When a drunken man threw a sake bottle at them and screamed obscenities at them, a silver-haired ANBU dropped from the roofs and incapacitated him, cheerfully (if it was possible to do so) saluting the Hokage and whisking the body away. Minato sniggered under his breath. Good ol' Kakashi.

Walking up to his apartment, which was only a few blocks from the General Hospital and the Hokage tower, the Sandaime bid him goodbye as he fumbled with his keys. Minato entered the small room, locking the door behind him. He had noticed traces of graffiti on the walls outside, but no remains of rotten fruit or other unsavory objects. So the hate wasn't as bad as it could have been, with the Sandaime's decree.

The apartment was very small, with only three rooms. One kitchen, with the basic appliances; a stove, oven, toaster, and microwave. The laminate countertops were littered with stacked ramen cups, and the tiled floor was sticky. A rough wooden table stood in the center of the kitchen, with two chairs pushed next to it. In the living room, the carpet needed vacuuming, but was otherwise clean. A grey sofa sat off to the side, and an empty bookshelf stood against the far wall. Decent. Not clean, but not messy either. A typical apartment for an orphan, Minato thought.

Entering the bedroom, the first thing Minato noticed was the dirty clothes scattered across the room. A faded white long-sleeved shirt lay crumpled on the edge of the bed, contrasting sharply with the dark blue covers. Eventually, as Minato started forwards and began gathering the dirtied clothes up, dumping them unceremoniously into a corner. He sidestepped the scattered scrolls and Academy textbooks, and peered underneath the bed to see anything he might have missed. That was when he noticed the loose flap of carpet and lifted floorboard. Minato crept forwards, peeking into the revealed hole.

There was money. A good amount of it. This was where Naruto stored his savings, where no one else would care to look. Minato sneezed and rubbed furiously at his nose. Damn dustbunnies. He pulled the floorboard back into place, rolling the flap of carpet back over it.

He pulled himself out from under the bed, still rubbing at his nose, and walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. That finished, Minato crawled into the bed and tried to plan out what he wanted to do. It didn't help his worries, and Minato found that he was far more exhausted than he thought when he fell asleep almost instantly.

--o0oOOOo0o--

Edited February, 2010

**Author's Notes:**

To my new readers: I hope you have enjoyed my story so far.

To my old readers: I plan on rewriting all the chapters from here on. I will continue working on a new chapter, but updates might be slower.

What do you guys think about this? Would you prefer the old chapter, or this one? I prefer this one, as I think the writing quality is higher, but it also has a slightly darker tone and less forgiving Minato.

Please Review.


	3. Wandering, Dazed, Lost

Time's Spinning Gears

Chapter 2- Wandering, Dazed, Lost

Warnings: AU, mild violence, possible swearing

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, and this is a nonprofit work.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato woke bright and early at… five o' clock in the morning. No matter what, it seemed that he couldn't catch a break.

Damn internal clock.

He grimaced at the loud birdsong that assaulted his ears, noting that he could hear the sounds of merchants carting their wares to the marketplace. They usually began setting up their stalls even earlier, at around four o' clock, to finish before the shoppers who came around at six in the morning arrived. Most of this group consisted of shinobi, as they were early risers, and wanted to get grocery shopping done before their missions were assigned.

Minato sighed, throwing off the blue covers, and swung his feet off the bed. Standing, he ambled to the lone bathroom in the apartment, and peered blearily into the dirty mirror there.

Blond, spiky hair jutted out in all directions, and bright blue eyes stared right back at him. Three whisker-like scars on each cheek stood out plainly against the lightly tanned skin, and Minato reached up to touch them.

He'd long known about the similarities in appearance between him and his son; besides the more delicate nose, the whisker-marks, the slightly rounder chin and cheeks, and the larger, less narrow eyes, he could have been Minato at that age. It seemed to be a wonder no one had noticed, but hatred often made people blind, he thought bitterly.

He absently reached up at touched the whisker marks on Naruto's- no, _his_ cheeks, and ran a hand through overly-familiar spiky blond hair. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he reached for the lone orange toothbrush in the clear plastic cup and squeezed a white glob of toothpaste on it, replacing the tube in the drawer. He scrubbed furiously at his teeth, determined to remove all scent of his morning breath. It had been one of Minato's pet peeves, and Kushina had teased him about it constantly. Smiling wistfully, he rinsed out his mouth and spat the mint-tasting paste out. He carelessly tossed his toothbrush back into its cup, and strode back into the bedroom, turning towards the closet. He carefully slid the door open, and it retracted smoothly into the wall.

Oh gods above.

Minato stared in shock at the sheer amount of orange there. Orange pants, orange jackets, orange shirts, and even orange boxers.

A string of curses ran their merry way through his head; he'd known Naruto liked orange, but did there have to be so much of it?

He blamed Kushina for this. She had loved neon yellow, and red, and… well, anything bright and eye-blinding, really.

His son would've been killed on his first C- rank mission!

He sighed, cradling his head in one hand. It was due time for a complete closet overhaul. He would not run around looking like a moronic ninny in an orange jumpsuit. Dark blue was his favorite color, thank you very much.

Minato yanked all of the orange jackets out of the closet, except for a few needed for appearances, and tossed them in a black garbage bag. The shirts were fine; he could wear something less conspicuous over them, before he found more appropriate clothing. Sorting through the various orange pants and shorts, he threw out all of the ripped and torn ones, only keeping the few designed with shinobi in mind. He stared at the orange boxers for a moment before just leaving them there.

He tied the black bag securely, hoisting it over to the window where he tossed it in the dumpster. Brushing off his hands, he folded the remaining orange clothes and stacked them in the empty bookshelf. It would have to do, until he fixed the empty dresser which refused to open.

Grabbing a broom and dustpan, he swept the closet out and dumped the debris into a trashcan, dragged out from the kitchen. That finished, Minato scowled at the pile of laundry in the corner, eventually putting it all into a plastic hamper and pulling it into the tiny bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him to hide the mess. He would take it to the Laundromat later.

He stood there, hands on hips, scanning the room critically. Neatly made bed, check. Clean closet, check. Laundry out of the way, check. Orange items to be carted to the incinerator check. A corner of his mouth twisted up sardonically at that. Minato ran a hand through his hair, relaxing. His room, while probably not the neatest in the world, was now relatively clean. He now only needed something…appropriate to wear.

He definitely did not want anyone alerted to his situation yet. Though some out- of character actions would be passed over as a result of his coma, it would be better safe than sorry. He pulled on a black turtleneck. Rummaging through his laundry, he pulled a relatively clean pair of blue shinobi pants out of the pile and pulled those on. Naruto apparently hadn't bothered to launder the non-orange clothes he had. Minato pondered this as he reached into the far dusty corners underneath the bed, pulling out two forgotten shinobi bandage rolls. He unrolled the stretchy white fabric, winding it around his shins.

There. Finished. He scrutinized his appearance in the mirror on the slide-in closet door, realizing that he looked far too different. In Naruto's words, Minato thought wryly, he would have been written up as 'emo.' He reluctantly reached for an orange jacket, and put it on.

Once again staring at himself in the mirror, he tugged angrily at the fuzzy collar. "Screw this." Minato muttered. He whipped out a kunai and cut off the white fluff, leaving behind a respectable-looking orange collar that sat low on his neck. Much better. The orange jacket, while not great for stealth, seemed to be made of waterproof material and kept him warm. It was October, after all.

Nodding satisfactorily, Minato glanced at the clock. It read 7:00 A.M, and the calendar tacked onto the wall told him that all Academy students had a four weeks off for the celebration of the Kyuubi's defeat. No Academy, then. Just in time for breakfast.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato frowned as he leapt over the rooftops towards the training grounds. The minute he had opened the pantry door, dozens upon dozens of cup ramen had spilled out of it and landed on the tiles. He had stared at them for a moment, shocked, before gathering them up and putting them on the kitchen counter. Naruto liked ramen, sure, but this…was a little much. It certainly explained why he had been so short. In the end, Minato ate anyways, after throwing out the rancid milk in the refrigerator and vowing to go shopping later. But that wasn't the reason he was so irritated.

Upon walking out the door, he had been greeted by the wary glances and occasional full-out glares of the villagers. He had smiled politely at everyone, and was downright respectful to the people who glared. If any shinobi had been around, they would have noticed the faintest killing intent that Minato was exuding. He pasted a small, polite smile on his face, ignored the scenes of carnage the fox offered, and went about his business.

Which, of course, was training. Enough was enough, and he would not put up with the villagers any longer.

Landing lightly at Training ground one, he stood and strode briskly over to a target post set up near a pond and large group of trees. The ground was hard-packed and dusty, and he heard the repetitive thunk of someone doing target practice hidden in the trees.

Training grounds one through five were designated for Academy students, and the higher the number, the more skilled you had to be to use them. For example, any training ground with a number past one hundred and seventy were ANBU and ANBU only, hidden deep within either the Forest of Death or the unnamed, less public quicksand swamp about ten miles out from the main gates of Konoha. Genin had the training grounds five through fifty, chunin had fifty through one hundred and ten, and all Jounin, even Special Jounin, had one hundred and ten through one hundred and seventy. There were undesignated training grounds where people often went, however, and all chunin-rank and above were allowed to use those. Genin were prohibited unless specifically told otherwise.

As for the Hokage….well, no one but the Hokage and shinobi on the level of the Sannin knew where their training grounds were. It was simply too dangerous.

Needless to say, Minato had been stuck with an Academy student training ground.

He threw his kunai and shruiken over and over again into the tough wooden target, fixing Naruto's technique. While Naruto threw well, he was not perfect. Not at the level Minato wanted to be. He had often used Hiraishin to avoid attacks, and used to fight opponents during which if his tri-pronged kunai had been even an inch higher, he would have been killed. He definitely planned on using the technique in the future, and it would be far better to practice now, safe, than to get killed later.

Minato constantly adjusted his technique, carefully refining it until he was satisfied. It would probably regress again tomorrow, but then, what was training for? He needed to practice the motion until it became instinct.

When his muscles began cramping from doing the same thing for so long, Minato decided that it was time to try taijutsu.

He started with the Academy base stance. Simple, easy. When the next stance came around, he found his feet instinctively going to the wrong positions. Shit. Somebody had taught Naruto incorrectly. When Minato got his hands on them, he would use Naruto's rather large reputation as a prankster to get his just revenge. It was only fair.

He very deliberately set his feet into the proper positions, flexing his knees and bending his arms. Minato sighed when the next stance he moved into proved to have similar mistakes as the first. Oh, joy. This was going to be a long, long day.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Kakashi smiled cheerily at the now sober civilian sitting in front of him. Of course, the man couldn't see it; all he saw was an ANBU mask. And, as any person with half a brain would be, he was scared. Very scared.

Kakashi thought for a moment that this was sad, because if the man proved to not have a brain at all and blurt out some things involving the Kyuubi, the Copy-nin would have been allowed to execute the man. _No one _got away with hurting Minato-sensei's legacy. No one. Ah well, such was life.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" If the voice-changers hidden in his mask didn't change his voice to a monotone, Kakashi would have scared the living shit out of the sweating man in front of him. As it was, the civilian, called Tanake Kano, licked his dry lips nervously and said nothing.

Kakashi's eyes narrowed dangerously and he leaked a little killing intent. "I did not hear you."

A drop of sweat slid down Kano's forehead and dripped off the tip of his nose.

"Well?" Kano's mouth opened, but no sound came out. He gaped like a fish.

The door behind Kakashi clicked open, allowing light to flood the dim interrogation room. "Now now, isn't that enough?" The Sandaime stood there, puffing away on his pipe.

Kakashi shrugged nonchalantly. "No, Hokage-sama."

Sarutobi sighed, resignedly. "I'll take it from here, please. Dismissed."

"Yes, Hokage-sama." Kakashi bowed and disappeared via Shunshin.

The Sandaime turned. Faced Kano. Smiled.

It was the scariest thing Kano had ever seen.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a swipe of his sleeve.

He was now sure of one thing.

Naruto _sucked _at taijutsu.

It was partially bad instruction, but honestly, Iruka would have noticed and corrected it by now. Naruto just liked the bad stances, for whatever reason.

It was like Kushina's taijutsu. She said her uncorrected stances were better. He didn't think so, but there was no way Minato could deny their effectiveness in combat. She had been one of the best kunoichi in Konoha.

But it was Minato now, not Naruto. And he was best using a smooth, flowing style, not a choppy unpredictable one.

So he forced himself to relearn all of the Academy taijutsu stances. It wasn't hard, per se, but it was incredibly frustrating. Every time he repeated a kata, his corrected stances inevitably slipped back to the old ones.

Minato sighed, repeating the kata. The thunk of kunai and shruiken in the forest had long stopped, and he supposed that the student had either started training in something else or left.

It had gotten somewhat better since he'd started that morning, but it had been over four hours. He should've at least gotten the katas corrected. He kept getting distracted…by something. His senses weren't what they used to be, in Naruto's body, and the only thing he had to go by was shinobi instinct.

Minato moved out of his stance and stretched. It was time for lunch and a shower. Maybe he'd have better luck later.

He leapt away. A few moments later, Uchiha Sasuke exited the forest, narrowing his eyes in speculation.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Sarutobi watched Kano be escorted away by ANBU. The man now had three weeks of community service for being inebriated in public. Of course, Kakashi had wanted to make sure that the man wasn't an assassin, but that couldn't be possible. Anyone who fainted from that small amount of killing intent didn't deserve to call himself an assassin.

Kakashi smiled behind his mask and flipped open an Icha Icha. "Well, Hokage-sama?"

The Sandaime sighed, his lips quirking up ever so slightly. "No, he wasn't an assassin, Kakashi. Your caution is admirable."

Kakashi eye-smiled happily…not that anyone could see it. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

"Have you seen Naruto lately?" He questioned.

"Well, actually, no. I haven't seen him at all today, and he hasn't been at the ramen stand yet." Kakashi shrugged, pulling at the white armor of his sleeveless ANBU uniform.

Sarutobi got up from behind his desk, refilling his pipe and putting it back into his mouth. "Well, I'll go see if he's there. It is my lunch break, after all, isn't it?" He glared warningly at Kakashi.

"Of course, Hokage-sama." The ANBU stated quickly.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato slumped at the Ichiraku ramen stand, picking up strands of noodles and delicately winding them around wooden chopsticks. His hair was wet and tousled, and he was wearing a simple blue t-shirt and orange pants with shinobi sandals.

Ayame watched him, concerned. "Naruto-kun, is something wrong?"

Minato jumped, berating himself about his lack of awareness, before answering. "No, just…my training isn't going the way it's supposed to."

Ayame blinked. His voice had none of the usual bright optimism, and she didn't hear the 'dattebyo' he often slipped into his speech. "Well, if there's anything wrong, you can tell me."

Minato flashed her a bright grin, returning his attention to the ramen noodles. He hadn't dared try any other restaurants yet, and as far as he knew, Naruto ate at this one at every opportunity. It maintained his cover, but honestly, wasn't very healthy. He stared into the swirling broth as if it held all the answers to his problems.

"Ah, Naruto, there you are." The Sandaime walked up behind him, pulling up a seat. "How are you?" He asked gently.

Minato shrugged. "I'm good, jiji. I still feel kinda weird from, you know, the incident. It's…I dunno." He slipped easily into Naruto-speak, as Minato had dubbed it.

"Well, let me know if you feel really strange, ok?"

"Of course, old man." Minato continued picking at his noodles, finally draining the bowl. Sarutobi finished his at the same time Minato did, as Minato had been eating slowly. "Well, I gotta go!"

The Sandaime nodded and waved the energetic boy goodbye. He seemed a little down, though.

It was probably nothing to worry about.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato returned to training ground one, bound and determined to get this taijutsu kata perfected. Filtering out all distractions, he managed to smoothly, albeit slowly, correctly finish the sets of katas without mistakes.

It seemed that the nagging at his gut had stopped.

He ran though the kata at least fifty more times, increasing his speed slightly after each repetition. Finished, he leaned down, hands on knees, panting.

Minato needed to work on his speed. Naruto's body had huge potential for it, but it was not utilized because of the street brawl fighting style he used. Minato, on the other hand, liked speed. _Really _liked it. His entire style was built around speed. He had been the fastest in his day and age, and he knew it.

He sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. So much to do, and so little time. Madara…Madara could be anywhere right now, and who knew what the man was up to. Minato was weak, currently a failure of an Academy student.

Shit. What a horrible situation.

If he didn't get stronger, fast, then he wouldn't be able to do anything when the devious Uchiha finally put his plans into motion. Konoha would burn.

And Minato was not about to allow that. The villagers might have hated him, but there were still the shinobi and the precious few that counted Naruto as a person to care for. He would save Konoha, for them and for Naruto. Sighing, he stretched and stood up, moving on to the next part of his training.

He ran through the twelve handseals. His fingers twisted easily through the familiar signs, but Minato's speed was severely lacking. To him, his fingers felt clumsy and thick, and he could barely keep up with his expectations. He hoped it would get faster with practice, otherwise, he was screwed.

He practiced. And practiced. And practiced some more.

His Handseal pace definitely needed to be improved. While it didn't matter right now, when he learned more complicated jutsu with more handseals it would become far more important. If you were faster than an opponent in executing jutsu, you would get the first strike. And in the world of shinobi, where the first strike would be designed to kill, your opponent would be dead.

It had been another reason why Minato's swiftness had been so devastating in the Third shinobi war.

He ambushed his enemies before they could so much as react.

So his lack of speed irritated Minato to no end. It had slowly become a huge part of his entire fighting style.

Scowling, he ran through a final set of handseals before beginning to practice his ninjutsu.

Henge first.

Easy. Anyone with focus and a modicum of visualization skills could pull this off. Even kids.

Next, Kawamiri. Simple. Maybe this situation wasn't as bad as he had thought….

Bunshin. Shit.

Three half-dead clones stood, woozily swaying from side to side. One lay on the dirt, frothing at the mouth. Needless to say, they were absolutely useless. His chakra control was shit.

Minato started swearing under his breath, using the most colorful words he knew. He supposed he had earned the right.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Edited as of Feburary 22, 2010

**Author's Note: **

Back with an edited chapter. Again, tell me what you guys think. Should I keep the old chapter, or use the new one.

Honestly, I'd much rather keep the revised ones….

'Till next time.


	4. Suspicious People Talk

Time's Spinning Gears

Chapter 3- Suspicious People Talk

Warnings: AU, mild violence, possible swearing. No yaoi.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, and this is a nonprofit work.

--o0oOOOo0o—

When Minato woke up the next day, he was achy, sore, and grumpy. Not the best combination. Added to the mother of all headaches, and you got an explosion waiting to happen.

Suffice it to say, Iruka would never know how lucky he had been when the Academy took four weeks off for the Kyuubi festival.

Minato would have definitely taken advantage of Naruto's reputation as a prankster. And he had the materials to do it. A roll of ninja wire stuffed deep into Naruto's closet, a few bottles of black ink, rubber chickens from who knows where, and a couple bottles of super glue plus a resourceful and irritated ex-fourth Hokage equaled chaos.

Naruto had to have gotten his genes from somewhere.

Minato had always had a mischievous streak. A slightly sadistic one, at that. It usually ended with the recipients of the prank thoroughly embarrassed. When he started dating Kushina, it became even worse. His poor genin students often became the target of harmless practical jokes under the guise of training.

Kakashi, at thirteen, once claimed that teasing others had become Minato's shinobi quirk. Minato had laughed, ruffled the boy's hair, and promptly dragged the perplexed chunin off for more 'team socializing'. The then-chunin had hated that.

Either way, when Minato got up on Sunday morning, he was not happy. His training hadn't gone well last night, and he had spent most of his time falling from a tree. Chakra control practice had not been fun.

In the end, all he had managed to create an ill-looking bunshin. Not as bad as before, admittedly, but not good enough to pass the academy test. Minato chalked his bad chakra control up to massive amounts of chakra and a leaky seal designed to pour demonic chakra to his system. And he left it at that. He would just have to practice more. It was crucial that he pass this Academy graduation test; it was the last one before the student was kicked out of the ninja system altogether, unless the Hokage waived it and allowed said student to be trained as an apprentice to a jounin.

It would be very unlikely that this happened, Minato knew. He'd been the Hokage; he knew the law book inside and out. Unless the child in question was considered to have enough potential to be trained one-on-one, instead of graduating and learning the traditional way, the dropout would be instead placed in the reserves, the small militia exclusive to non-shinobi soldiers, similar to samurai. The training between those and ninja were extremely different. The non-ninja troops learned how to work as a group, as one cohesive unit. They followed orders. Shinobi, on the other hand, worked in, at most, four to six man cells. They would defer to seniority, but often a lower-ranked ninja would find himself in a situation in which he would have to judge for himself. The difficulties in the jobs were miles apart. Ninja were in a class of their own, even without the use of chakra.

It would get easier as he got older and his body became more used to the massive amount of chakra. Hopefully.

Frankly, he was surprised he'd even managed to make one bunshin that looked somewhat alive. With Naruto's chakra, it shouldn't have been possible. When Minato thought about it, it could have been the Shinigami's gift. But that wasn't it….right?

If it really was the Shinigami's gift, it would make his life much easier.

Bad mood mostly gone, Minato made his way to the kitchen where he sat down to eat miso soup. It had been bought from the Ichiraiku ramen stand, one of the few things on the menu that was relatively healthy on a day to day basis. Perhaps grocery shopping today would be a good idea.

--o0oOOOo0o—

Minato took to the rooftops, swiftly making his way through the village.

It hadn't changed much.

The remnants of décor from the Kyuubi festival stood out starkly from the busy streets. Vibrant red fabric hung draped from a round stage in a large courtyard surrounding the Hokage tower.

It was the center of Konoha.

The Hokage tower stood tall, extending up into the sky as if it went on forever. The kanji for fire sprawled boldly over the side of the circular building, announcing its origins. The land of fire.

People traversed the streets, crowding the wide paved paths. A few navigated narrow dirt paths, preferring the more out-of the way shops.

A pang of nostalgia shot through him. He technically hadn't been here for twelve years.

Minato leapt easily from building to building, heading towards the market district. Colorful stalls edged the square, and the vivid fabric used to form tents over the wagons or stands stood out like bright checkers against the dull terra-cotta color of building roofs.

He slid to a stop and leapt easily from the edge of the structure with a clatter of tiles, surprising a civilian mother and her child below. Minato ignored them and headed instead for the nearest fruit stand, frowning at the prices they gave him.

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

One piece of fruit cost half as much as the normal price.

Minato mused on whether or not to inform the Sandaime. It was the Hokage's money he handed over, after all.

No…it wouldn't change. It would only give the opinion that the Kyuubi brat had the Hokage wrapped around his pinky finger.

And Minato did not want to trouble the kind, grandfatherly old man that way.

Grudgingly handing over the money, he made a mental note to carefully ration what he ate.

He ignored the butcher's shop, blowing right by it. Buying cuts of meat had to be the most expensive part of grocery shopping, and why would he pay for it when he could hunt and do it himself?

Minato would get his fats and carbohydrates from the Ichiraiku ramen stand and fish or hunt rabbits for proper nutrition and protein. He did not need to buy anything. Most ninja bought food from the butcher, if only for the convenience. But they were plenty used to roughing it, and could easily scavenge themselves.

Well, that and the glare the butcher gave did not bode well at all. Minato smirked.

The fat old man would not be getting any of his or the Hokage's money today.

Ah, well. It wasn't his problem.

He navigated the crowds with ease, using his small stature to blend in. It didn't hurt that his stealth was far better than expected. It must have been from when Naruto avoided the chunin and jounin during the aftermath of his pranks.

Minato headed for a vegetable stand, carefully judging the woman's expressions as he approached.

The Namikaze bloodline- if you could call it a bloodline- allowed him to read another person's body language with frightening accuracy.

When there had been a clan, the Namikaze had been almost as revered by the shinobi as the Uchiha. They had been rumored of being able to see the future.

It was almost literally true.

Even those that stayed civilians had a certain intuition that told them, immediately, if someone was lying. It worked for up to jounin level nin. Namikaze clan ninja, on the other hand, could read anyone. It had been undisputed throughout the five elemental continents.

With a little information, a Namikaze could know the weak points of a ninja in seconds.

The most skilled could predict an opponent's moves, on the level of a fully matured Sharingan.

It was easy, simple, and very, very frightening to an enemy of the Namikaze.

They had worked mostly in the T&I department, or in ANBU and infiltration missions. The public had no clue. But the Namikaze name stayed a whispered one among shadows of the shinobi world.

All of them were killed when the Kyuubi attacked, except for a certain Uzumaki Naruto. It had been a major blow to Konoha. Minato mourned them, but he hadn't known them well at all. His father had been estranged when he refused to enter into an arranged marriage, and that was that. While his clan hadn't been as stiff or formal as the Hyuuga and Uchiha clans, this arranged marriage had been ordered by the Damiyo himself. Not pretty. It was one of the first and last marriage offers the Namikaze clan accepted.

They refused to take any more after that incident; Minato's father had been a well-loved and respected individual, and losing him caused bad blood within the clan.

In the few years that Minato worked with them as a Hokage, they remained friendly and even apologized for what they did. He had had friends in the Namikaze.

Minato still retained the body-language reading abilities he'd had has a Hokage. There was no physical exertion involved, only pure observation.

The woman manning the vegetable stand only gave him a non committal glance before resuming scanning the crowd. A flicker of expression appeared as she saw him, though. Minato spotted it and analyzed it easily. It was one of the minute expressions of the face that ninja in the T&I department were trained especially to read, and to understand. They were involuntary, and often passed so quickly that they were nigh-impossible to see, but the most trained could interpret them. And the Namikaze were the best.

Minato read the flash of emotion. Confusion. Pity. Understanding. Ah, so the homely woman had been shunned before. Whether or not she'd once been an orphan, could only be found out with conversation. But she knew about the Kyuubi, and didn't know what to think. With the right approach, she would sell him her stock at a reasonable price.

He poked about the vegetables, being especially careful to seem nervous. He wanted the woman to empathize with him, so he acted very carefully. He shot anxious glances at the people around him, as an uneasy child would, and when he approached the woman to pay, her eyes softened a tiny bit before charging the regular price. He thanked her, gratefully, and made a resolution to always come to her stall.

Moving away, he stopped by his apartment to drop off his groceries, locking the door behind him. Frowning at the lack of security, he vowed to stop by the Academy Library later and pick up a few books on fuinjutsu. It would give him an excuse for knowing the basics of Fuinjutsu, and allow him to paint crude security seals on his window frame, door, and walls. While any self-respecting chunin would be able to easily sneak past them (Minato was masquerading an Academy student, after all!) it would definitely make them more cautious about breaking in. At least civilians would be knocked out to be picked up by ANBU later.

Actually, he thought, locking the door of his apartment from the inside, very few shinobi actually seemed to hate him. Most respected the wishes of the Yondaime, and some ANBU who had seen the spectacle of sealing on October tenth even waved at him occasionally, showing their masked faces. They could not reconcile the image of an enthusiastic, bubbly blonde boy with that of a massive demon fox.

Also, shinobi knew about sealing. If they were concerned, they could do research of their own. Books on demonic sealing were stored in the Archives at the Hokage tower, and, depending on your level of clearance, could be accessed. There were different, and progressively more detailed and confidential, books on biju seals accessible to genin, chunin, jounin, and ANBU.

The books told the unvarnished truth about jinchuriki and seals. Minato knew. He had spent three hellish days before October tenth frantically reading those books for any clue of how to seal the Kyuubi no Kitsune. He'd been forced to make one, a whole new seal to lock away the most powerful of demons.

Minato took a deep breath, making sure everything was in order in the small room. He slipped out of his window, shutting it behind him. A locking mechanism sealed the reinforced glass, a common feature of many shinobi apartments.

Ninja were well-known for leaping out of windows.

He ignored the cursing of the tenant who lived underneath his apartment, and continued on his way to the Academy student training grounds.

Minato landed easily at the familiar dusty clearing, starting his warm up.

His newly incorporated daily warm up included four sets of fifty pushups, thirty situps, thirty crunches, and anywhere from ten to twenty laps around Konoha, depending on how ready he felt to begin his true workout.

Minato wiped the sweat off his forehead and retied his bandanna more securely around his brow to prevent sweat from dripping into their eyes. As soon as possible, he would be replacing that black cloth with a hitai-ate.

He had just finished approximately thirty-seven repetitions of a kata he had been trying to learn when he was interrupted by none other than Uchiha Sasuke. Black hair spiked up behind his head, and his eyes focused on Minato, almost angrily.

Minato's eyebrows rose, wondering why the number one rookie would even bother to associate with the dead last of the Academy. Sure, Naruto had as often as possible challenged the boy to fights, but most of the time, the proud Uchiha couldn't even be bothered. Minato shrugged, waving a hand casually at Sasuke. "Hey. Teme."

He mentally smirked, and gauged the boy's reaction. A slight tightening of lips told him exactly how much the Uchiha had been irked by his statement. For the emotionless Sasuke, it stood as an accomplishment.

A smirk curved the genius's lips. "Dobe." He said, confident in his ability to piss Naruto off.

Meanwhile, Minato ignored the boy, not interested in entering a contest with the Uchiha. A second of thought confirmed this as strange behavior, however, so he turned and glared angrily at the boy.

Sasuke, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes at the odd reaction. Despite his off-putting attitude, he was a genius. And he knew when someone was acting out-of-character. "What happened, dobe?"

Minato rolled his eyes. "As if it's any of your business, teme."

Sasuke scowled.

When had Naruto grown a brain?

More importantly, Sasuke thought, eyes narrowing, when had Naruto gotten so fast?

He had been going through the katas with a speed that far surpassed what the deadlast used to move at. Not that it really mattered; he definitely could still defeat the dobe.

But, as he watched, the Uchiha became less and less confident.

This was an entirely new Naruto he was dealing with.

When Naruto had faced him, Sasuke had been confronted by cold, narrowed blue eyes that were like an iced- over pool.

Like the ice that lay on a pond in winter, the eyes hid secrets that swam beneath.

All true shinobi, in Sasuke's not-so-humble opinion, had those eyes.

He had them. Itachi had them. And even the Hokage, if you looked past the caring, grandfatherly personality he exuded.

After all, the Hokage was the center of a black mire of politics and scandal. He controlled, no, ruled them all, like puppets on a string.

Not that Sasuke thought the Hokage was pretending in his care for him. He was one of the few people Sasuke respected. The Sandaime could let some of his real self show, without showing the ruthless part of him to others.

It was all masks upon masks, and even then, a series of hidden strings that connected him to others.

Sasuke had learned about this; it had been a ruthless lesson shoved into his throat.

He was the last Uchiha, and the Uchiha had held much power in the council of Konoha.

That power had to be distributed.

And Sasuke was in the center of it all.

The council had been all fake concern, only wanting guardianship for his power when he found a wife and started rebuilding his clan.

They wanted influence. They wanted riches. They wanted authority.

Though the shinobi council didn't show it, they wanted it too.

The civilian council's eyes were open, wide, and emotions flitted through to easily be read like a children's picture book.

The shinobi, though….they had those eyes.

Those cold, guarded eyes.

Naruto had them now, guarded eyes that hid secrets, that knew death. It was a far cry from the open, warm gaze that the deadlast used to have, where emotions showed so readily it was laughable.

Sasuke had been like that once. Look at where it had gotten him.

The last of a fallen clan, wiped out in one night by the genius brother he had once loved and looked up to with all his heart.

This Naruto was different, like him. Something had changed him, changed him to what Sasuke was now.

This Naruto was deadly serious.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed.

"Fight me, Naruto."

**Edited 3/23/10**

**Author's Notes:**

That was a doozy of a chapter.

I had literally no inspiration. None! I sorry for not updating in so long.

And this is so short compared to some other chapters I've written, I'm ashamed.

Even after rereading it and editing it so many times, something about it still feels…off. I dunno.

Maybe because I made Sasuke a bit more angsty than I would have liked. Or Minato's acting weird. Or my description of the grocery scene, in my opinion, wasn't very good.

A moment, please.

AUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!

This chapter was such a pain to write. Either way, here is the confrontation. And this is where the revised version rapidly deviates from Time's Spinning Gears 1.0.

Maybe they'll be friends? Maybe I won't bash Sasuke as much as I did in my old, immaturely written version?

Bwhahaha… who knows.

Damn it. Too much sugar again.

Help me here, readers!

P.S- Did you like the un-edited version better? Or this one? Those who have read the old version will know.

Please review.


	5. Peace, War, and Rivals

Time's Spinning Gears

Chapter 4- Peace, War, and Rivals

Warnings: AU, Mild Violence. Possible Swearing.

Disclaimer: Naruto © Kishimoto

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato blinked.

There was a long, long pause.

"You, the Uchiha, rookie of the year, want to fight me, the deadlast, the idiot." Minato said slowly, enunciating each word.

Sasuke's eyebrows rose. "Are you deaf?"

Minato promptly took all his half-formed assumptions about Sasuke's character and threw them out of the figurative window.

"You'll pound me into the ground." Minato hedged. He didn't want to fight the Uchiha, but Naruto wasn't known for turning down challenges.

Sasuke shrugged. "It shouldn't be a problem. It has happened before."

"Yeah, but I really don't want to spend four weeks of training time in the hospital, thanks. Find someone else to be your punching bag, Uchiha."

"No. I want to fight you, Naruto." Sasuke challenged. He mentally scoffed at Naruto's words. Naruto had always healed quickly. You could break his arm one day, and he would be chipper and fine the next.

Minato stuffed his hands into his pockets. "And what if I don't want to?"

"That isn't an excuse!" The Uchiha snarled. "You've changed, Naruto. And I want to know why."

The boy's frustration wasn't the only thing that fueled the outburst. Sasuke liked to think he knew all about his classmates. He liked to believe that he could predict exactly how all of his fellow students would react if he acted a certain way. Naruto had thrown this little predetermined scale so far out of whack that Sasuke was trying to regain normalcy, trying to fight the so-called deadlast, win, and restore the balance between the idiot and prodigy.

It wouldn't work, because 'Naruto' had changed irrevocably, forever. That, and Sasuke had his flaws.

Minato, meanwhile, swore under his breath. Someone noticed already? Damn. And it has only been a few days, too…. "Yes, Uchiha, and you are the expert on all things Naruto. Do tell, how did I change?"

"And that…" Sasuke growled, "Is what I am going to find out!" He leapt forwards, attacking without warning.

Minato, startled, instinctively whirled to attack the enemy's throat. However, in this body, he couldn't keep up with the Uchiha's speed.

Sasuke hit him in the gut, Minato immediately rolling to reduce the damage. He wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth.

The Uchiha certainly wasn't pulling his punches.

Fine, then. He wanted a fight? He'd get one. Just…a bit more high level than what the boy had asked for, or expected.

Minato stayed still, crouching. His eyes tracked Sasuke's movements, analyzing and predicting.

It had been a bad idea for the Uchiha to back off…he should have kept attacking the downed opponent. What Sasuke was doing would have been considered honorable.

But…Minato glanced sideways, planning his angle of attack- ninja didn't do honorable.

Ninja deceived, they tricked, and they fooled.

Looking past Sasuke at the nicely-shaped training log behind him, Minato began the handseals for a Kawamiri [Body Replacement Technique].

Minato smirked at the look in Sasuke's eyes as he was whirled away by the force of the jutsu.

A large, four-foot log took his place.

And the sole of Minato's sandal made the acquaintance of Sasuke's neck.

He drew a kunai, and Sasuke automatically flinched away from the cold metal.

He was beaten, and he knew it. Naruto could have killed him then.

Minato spoke. "Yield."

Sasuke's mouth twisted into a grimace as the metal blade refused to lift from the back of his neck. He attempted to slide a kunai from his holster, but stilled as the kunai cut deeper, a slight trickle of blood escaping from the cut.

Naruto's voice, as cold as the ice in a blizzard, cut through Sasuke's thoughts. "Yield."

"I yield." Sasuke forced out through gritted teeth. He'd lost. He'd lost to a deadlast, because of one stupid careless mistake. How was he ever going to be strong enough?

Minato climbed off the Uchiha and put his kunai away.

He held out his hand for the fuming boy. Sasuke glared at him for a moment, before reluctantly reaching up and grasping the proffered hand.

Minato folded his arms, gauging the boy's reaction.

"Same time, same place next week?"

Sasuke hid his surprise well. The offer was entirely expected; just…not in the cool, controlled manner it was offered. He'd been expecting something more along the lines of, 'Sasuke! Fight me! I'll definitely beat you this time!' Except, Naruto was supposed to have lost.

"Fine." The Uchiha said grudgingly. Either way, his pride would not rest until he had defeated the deadlast for once and for all… that, and find out exactly how and why the dobe had changed so much.

Minato nodded satisfactorily. "Good." He turned away, leaving Sasuke to contemplate his defeat.

-o0oOOOo0o-

Sasuke flung the kunai at an abused target, scowling heavily as the kunai embedded itself deeply into the wooden blank.

Damn!

Why, how...

How had Naruto gotten so strong?

Why had he changed?

_He _was the prodigy; _he _was the Rookie of the Year….

So, how had the _deadlast _beaten him?

A small, tiny part of Sasuke whispered, _because you were stupid, because you were careless, because you underestimated him, because you were __**weak….**_

He growled and lunged at a training dummy, viciously rending it to bits of rough cloth and stuffing.

He refused to admit that the deadlast had actually scared him a little.

The cold voice, the kunai, the willingness to injure, if not kill….

It wasn't the Naruto he knew, and it was frightening.

He shook off his thoughts. Sasuke would not allow himself to show weakness.

Not to Naruto, and definitely not to his accursed brother.

_Never again, _his mind whispered. He refused to be betrayed, belittled, again.

-o0oOOOo0o—

The Sandaime Hokage looked up from the report.

"Naruto defeated the Uchiha?" It wasn't rude, and he hadn't raised his voice even one iota, but one could hear the gentle disbelief laced into the innocent statement.

The panther-masked ANBU shifted slightly. It could have been taken as a simple transfer of weight by a bystander, but coming from an ANBU, the small movement meant so much more.

For example, the ANBU handseal for alerting an ally to the presence of an enemy was the slightest curl of the middle finger. It relied almost completely on the operative's team to read the movements properly.

It was why Konoha's Black ops were known to have the best teamwork of all the elemental nations. Enemies could be wiped out in a single instant of carelessness; a seemingly useless lightning jutsu fired into the sky paved the way for a water jutsu, powered by the gathered humidity in the air and charged with the latent electricity that lingered.

All orchestrated by a few swift movements of a finger.

So Sarutobi looked up, and put his report down. If the ANBU was so discomfited by the statement, then it must have been significant. Shuffling his papers into a semblance of neatness, the old man folded his hands on the wide desk. "So, Hyou [Panther], what do you find so surprising about this? Naruto has beaten the Uchiha before, not often, or even significantly, but he has." He fell silent and waited for an explanation, fixing the ANBU with a penetrating gaze.

The ANBU himself did not move from his seemingly inattentive, relaxed slouch. However, true to his mask, his posture was that of a predator, a panther waiting to strike. "The win itself was… unexpected, yes. But it was not the win itself that startled me." The operative paused, thinking his words through. "Forgive me, Hokage-sama, if this seems trivial, but…"

"And?" The Sandaime Hokage prompted.

"Naruto…" Panther's hand unconsciously moved a centimeter closer to his kunai holster. Sarutobi, recognizing the movement for the safety blanket it provided, did not comment. "Naruto has changed."

Sarutobi was instantly alert. It was only a few days after the coma, and any possible side effects were seemingly gone. But what if, what if the Iwa nin had placed a genjutsu on the boy, what if the boy's will had been destroyed beyond repair, what if the Kyuubi was influencing Naruto's thoughts… No. He shook himself. Such thoughts were foolish. There was possibly nothing to worry about, so there was no need to panic. He would wait until he had evidence.

"…How-" The Sandaime breathed.

"He is calm in the heat of battle. Calculating. Observant. The sort of thing looked for in potential ANBU during the war. Just- " Panther's voice suddenly dropped off to a whisper, so low Sarutobi could hardly hear it. "Just like his father, when he got older." Just as abruptly as he had spoken, the ANBU quieted. "He acts jaded, like one many times his age. Like he has seen war." A pause. "He hides it well. Not well enough."

The old Hokage felt like his heart was in his throat, beating his life away. So Naruto had lost his innocence, the cheerful naivety that could cheer even him up on the day of Minato's death. It would have happened anyways, with the career Naruto had chosen, but…

Swallowing his heart back down, Sarutobi felt terrible about continuing the questioning. Especially knowing how strongly this particular ANBU felt about it. But it had to be done. "…Go on."

Panther bowed his head. As his Hokage asked, he would obey. "It is like… he tries to hide it. But his muscles are not trained to do so. It is subtle, but it is there."

Sarutobi lowered his head into his hands. "I will speak with Naruto later. For now, go report everything you've told me to Yumi-san."

The Panther mask inclined in a questioning tilt.

"Naruto's nurse. I'm sure you've heard of her."

Panther visibly relaxed. "Yes, I have, Hokage-sama. She is trustworthy."

"Well then. Go."

The silence stretched for a moment longer, both men understanding what was at stake. For Konoha, and for themselves.

-o0oOOOo0o—

**Author's Note: **

Long time no see.

Please don't kill me.

I probably should have made this longer, but I really didn't want to make you guys wait longer than I already have. Please accept my profuse apologies. I sincerely hope that there are a few readers sticking around for this story…..

I think I kept everyone in-character. If I didn't, well, that's what reviews are for, aren't they? Practically any and all reviews will be accepted by me, even those one-sentence ones that go, Update soon! At least it tells me that someone is looking forwards to my updates, and appreciates my work. Flames will be reported or deleted. I do not tolerate that sort of degrading language towards me or anyone else.

Writer's block is a b—ch.

I've been working on other plot bunnies, in an attempt to get my creative juices flowing again on this fic. That, and finals coming up have made it really, really difficult to keep writing. Chapters will be posted more consistently come June, though. Luckily, this chapter flowed much easier than the one preceding it. I write two paragraphs over the course of two months, then bam! Everything else gets written so fast it makes my head spin.

Ja ne,

-Port in the Storm

May 4, 2010


	6. The Shadows of War

Time's Spinning Gears

Chapter 5- The Shadows of War

Warnings: AU, Mild violence, Possible swearing.

Disclaimer: Naruto © Kishimoto

-o0oOOOo0o—

Kakashi leapt from the Hokage tower.

For a moment, he felt fear; an instinctual reaction from the human body, but his training and confidence in his own abilities brushed it away.

He landed on a roof three stories lower.

The Panther mask glinted in the soft moonlight, which was occasionally blocked by clouds. Silver hair was kept hidden by a black hood.

His head swiveled, searching out Namiko's chakra. Kakashi had met the woman a few times before, and on the surface, they were cordial acquaintances.

Underneath the underneath, however, they were teammates and comrades.

Namiko was an undercover ANBU, codenamed Sparrow, and she been working in the hospital since Naruto had been born. The Sandaime had put her into place as a contingency, a 'Plan B' just in case. As it turned out, she had been sorely needed.

He thanked Kami that she was there, for if she hadn't… Kakashi didn't dare to think of what might have happened. Naruto, his sensei's _son, _would have died.

He hadn't been able to face the boy then. Kakashi still wasn't sure he could face him now.

Sighing, he swung easily through the window into Namiko's apartment, landing silently on the soft carpet. Behind him, the security seals flashed once before confirming him as a Konoha ANBU.

Namiko, who was already dressed in her ANBU uniform and had put on her mask, turned to meet him.

"Buntaichō," she greeted.

Kakashi inclined his head. "Sparrow."

"What brings you here today?"

He glanced around before flashing through a set of handseals. "Souon no Kakuheki." [Barrier of noise]

Namiko frowned, recognizing the significance of the technique. Both Jounin and ANBU had to turn in a written report for all the data above B-rank in class, and that usually would have the more classified information. To require a barrier technique for even the information given through mouth was rare.

Kakashi cut straight to the point. "Hokage-sama wants you to keep an eye on Naruto."

"Why?" There was no hesitation. To Kakashi, it meant that if there wasn't a good reason for the Sandaime's request, she was fully prepared to argue Naruto's case.

He was quick to placate her. "He has been acting odd the past few days. It could be a side effect of the coma. But he is more jaded… I don't know. It reminds me of the veterans of the war."

"Buntaichō, you are a veteran of the war yourself."

"Yes, and look how I turned out."

Namiko bit her lip. "Perhaps. I'm not doubting your skill, but this is something only Inoichi could make sure of." She picked up a mission scroll from the nearby counter. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you." Kakashi said sincerely. "Hokage-sama will give you the written report when you get back from your mission."

"Yes, Buntaichō."

Kakashi exited through the window, disappearing into the night.

Namiko stared after him, hoping with all her heart that the ANBU captain was mistaken.

But, in the deepest parts of her mind, she knew that something was wrong with Naruto, and that Panther's instincts were correct.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Even at this unholy hour, the esteemed Sandaime Hokage could still be found awake and working at his desk. The only ninja still up an awake in the Hokage tower at this time were the chunin on night duty and the requisite ANBU guards.

Most didn't notice how worried, how tense the old man seemed. Though the aged, wrinkled hands scrawled unceasingly across the pale scroll, their knuckles grew whiter and whiter until Sarutobi finally noticed that his tightening grip was beginning to crush the small brush he held in his hand. Sighing, he relaxed and put down the abused writing implement.

He was worried. The gap in Naruto's guard during the day he was almost killed had been a result of council members sticking their meddling hands into things they had no right to. They'd been brought to trial in court, and executed.

Any gap in the security of Konoha would not be tolerated, even if temporarily and especially not for selfish purposes.

But they shouldn't have had the ability to even see the security detail, much less change it with no one noticing until after the fact. Unfortunately, any move to have them interrogated would undermine his position. As far as the evidence showed, those minor council members were the only ones involved in the plot.

However, logic dictated that they could not have pulled off something like this themselves. The only one with the resources to do something like this, besides the Hokage, was Danzo.

Danzo. Once, Sarutobi had considered the man a friend. Soon, however, differing political views forced them to be mere acquaintances. Then, the Sandaime realized that Danzo had been using children in his ROOT force.

Their relationship had degenerated from there.

Sarutobi could hardly believe it when he first found out. The first ROOT he found had been a mere ten year old boy, as emotionless as the most trained ANBU. He didn't allow himself to think about the conditioning required for children, used to speaking their mind, to become this way. ROOT, officially, had been liquidated three years after the Kyuubi attack.

Unofficially, the Sandaime knew that they were still up and running. He just couldn't prove it. Danzo had become far more paranoid and cautious, now that he knew that his one-time friend could not be trusted with the details of his plans. There was little evidence that ROOT even existed, and what was there, well, releasing the information that proved it was not an option.

The very fact that Danzo had attempted such a revealing move, uncovering ROOT's existence to much of the higher ninja ranks showed how desperate he was to get rid of the Kyuubi jinchuriki.

The man viewed Naruto as a threat, Sarutobi knew that much.

The old man sighed. He was getting too old for this job.

-o0oOOOo0o—

As Kakashi swiftly made his way back to his apartment, prepared for another night with only four hours of sleep, he could not help but wonder; what had he been doing the past ten years?

Nothing. He answered his own question. He hadn't done a damn thing.

He'd barely kept his promise to Minato-sensei. Sure, he had protected Naruto to the best of his ability, but he hadn't noticed the gap in the guard roster until it had been too late.

'Underneath the underneath', his ass.

He'd been too wrapped up in guilt and self-pity to realize that Naruto had been suffering far more than he had thought.

How would sensei react, if he could see him now?

To Kakashi, the coma Naruto had been put in was a nasty wake-up call. He hadn't been able to protect the boy, he hadn't noticed the Iwa spy, and like any idiot, he hadn't realized there was a gap in the guard for fifteen crucial minutes.

He had been weakening, his skills degrading from when he had been younger. With nothing to motivate him, and no emotional support, he'd unconsciously held himself back.

No more.

If he was to protect sensei's son, he'd give it all he had. It was the least he could do.

After all, his old team would have wanted him to live. And he'd been stagnating, wallowing in a pit of depression and remorse.

It was time he lived for the pressent, no matter what pain and memories it dredged up. Kakashi needed to stop running away from his past, lest the few people left he actually cared about got hurt.

Perhaps he would bring out the Hatake family tanto again. It had been years since she had tasted blood.

-o0oOOOo0o—

Minato sat in his apartment, a small seal-powered lamp allowing him to see. A long scroll of cheap paper sat in front of him, and he idly twirled a brush in his left hand. Though there were notes and small drawings on the scroll, he only stared at them, not really looking at his writing.

Frowing, he reached towards a small inscription on the base of the metal lamp and turned up the power, increasing the light that fell on the manuscript. After a few seconds, he carefully adjusted the steel joint that angled the light on the scroll, focusing it on a small prototyped seal. He didn't have enough chakra control to safely enhance his sight, and Minato definitely wanted to keep seeing color and shapes, thank you very much.

His day had gone mostly as expected, except for 'the Sasuke incident', as he'd labeled it in his mind.

But still, things had been very strange. He'd improved immensely in his chakra control, managing to make it about three-quarters of the way up the tree before falling off, and on top of that, had been able to make a wobbly bunshin. Given, that bunshin was the only stable one out of the other ninety-seven he'd made at the same time, but still! According to what he knew about demonic chakra and the way it worked, that shouldn't have even been possible until Naruto's fortieth birthday!

The seal would finally drain all of the Kyuubi's chakra when Naruto was twenty, and Naruto's body should fully adjust to the mass of chakra over the next twenty years. While the boy would never have perfect chakra control, it would be good enough to make a relatively stable bunshin, which really only required the control of a below-average Academy student.

It was giving Minato a headache.

And then, there was Sasuke.

What had he done to make the boy notice him so much? As far as he knew, he'd mostly kept to Naruto's patterns and behavior, except for not acting as challenging to Sasuke's 'superior' position and going out to ramen less often.

But still, he'd attracted the attention of the last Uchiha, and more attention was exactly what he didn't need.

On top of that, if Sasuke, an Academy student had seen that 'Naruto' had been behaving oddly, then the ANBU guards would have noticed, which meant that the Hokage now knew….

Damn.

He was getting too old for this shit.

-o0oOOOo0o-

Sasuke paced angrily at a small apartment in the Uchiha clan complex, unable to sleep.

He'd lost.

He knew why, and how, but the fight still prodded at the back of his mind.

Naruto.

At first, he was just a simpleton. Something to ignore, a useless academy student that would never climb past genin.

But then, Naruto had beaten him, the last Uchiha, the Rookie of the Year. Naruto, the deadlast, and the dobe had actually made it look easy!

It didn't make sense. It didn't fit with what he knew.

But then, little about the fight matched up with the information he had. A scornful voice rang through his head.

_"Yes, Uchiha, and you are the expert on all things Naruto. Do tell, how did I change…?" _

"Shut up." Sasuke whispered.

Blissful silence.

Why? Why?

Why was he so curious about a boy he hadn't so much as cared about before?

And why did Naruto offer to spar, with that look in his eyes?

_"Sasuke, I promise to practice with you later. But I have a mission right now." And Itachi smiled, and poked him in the forehead. "Be good, otouto." _

"Damnit. Damn you, Naruto, for pitying me. Damn it!" The last Uchiha's voice rose to a scream.

One last, mocking word echoed in his mind as he slumped into his futon, exhausted.

_"Why?" _

-o0oOOOo0o—

The next day dawned.

It was one of those days; when the sun shone brightly, but the fog and mist hanging in the air chilled you to your bones, and grey clouds choked off the sky.

It couldn't be helped, Minato noted, tightening a dark blue scarf around the lower half of his face. It was fall, the point between summer and winter, and of course it would be cold.

Tugging the edges of the warm woolen scarf up around his ears, Minato began to walk, ambling along the path. It was extremely early in the morning, and most sane Konoha citizens were still asleep.

Well, except for the ninja, but their collective sanity was debatable.

His breath came out in small puffs of smoky mist, hanging in the air and blowing past his face. Only the Aburame seemed to be up and about, as a few of their bug colonies woke and lived solely in the mists of dawn.

It was odd, Minato thought, how the Aburame could be there and yet not there, as if they were detached from the living world, communing with a voice nobody else heard. Of course, that would be their kikaichu [Parasitic Destruction Insects], he thought amusedly.

He had to pass the entrance to the clan home on the way to Training Ground Seven. While the training ground had been originally meant for genin, since the memorial stone was there, it was open to all comers. That is, as long as no one was hurt. So far, no one had been.

Spotting who he thought was Shino from Naruto's class, Minato waved hesitantly, not sure if the figure was who he expected. Relief swept through him when the figure paused, and waved back.

Nodding in greeting, Minato turned and continued on his way. It was good that the Namikaze were the premier shinobi for reading body language, otherwise he would have probably approached the Aburame when the boy clearly needed to continue on his chore.

Shino stared after Naruto, adjusting his round sunglasses. How odd. From his observations, he knew Naruto as a boisterous, loud boy, clearly in want for attention. From this, he had deduced that Naruto would have approached him with a loud greeting and proclamation after he, Shino, had been spotted. This course of action, nodding and continuing on his way, was, however, illogical. But then again, his father had explained to him that people, including those of his own clan, were unpredictable. Thus, such unusual behavior should be typical. But even as he turned away, carrying a small box that nested rare beetle larvae, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Especially as Naruto slept in frequently and was late for class more often than not.

Not noticing this, Minato quickly reached training ground seven, speeding up to a brisk jog. Crossing the red wooden bridge, he quickly found the memorial stone; a rectangular block of polished granite that unobtrusively sat in a small clearing.

This was far more than just a chunk of rock with names.

It recognized a resting place for those whose bodies may not have been able to be retrieved, yet still died for Konoha. It honored dead comrades, friends, or even acquaintances. But it was a link, a connection to those long gone.

And in the twelfth row of names, in the third column, sat his own. Minato knelt by the stone, in a state of shock. He'd known all along that he was dead, but to see it confirmed, on the memorial… It made it real.

_Namikaze Minato, Yondaime Hokage. _

The carved name had been gilded, and it stood out against the two names next to it; Mitsuki Mai, a chunin, and some jounin called Takaharu Jin. Dozens of names were etched out on the polished stone, but only a few stood out to him.

_Uchiha Obito, genin. Yagami Rin, jounin. _

His fingers reached out to lightly trace the names, pausing when he reached his wife's.

_Uzumaki Kushina, jounin. _

His- _Naruto's-_mother. Hand trembling slightly, he quickly withdrew it and tucked the rebellious limb into his pocket. It had to be the cold, he told himself.

It had to be.

Firmly stuffing his hands deep into the depths of his jacket, Minato turned away from the memorial.

Perhaps he'd go to the library. It would give him an excuse to know some skills, after all…

-o0oOOOo0o—

Kakashi froze in shock.

What…? What was Naruto doing here, of all places? How did he know about the memorial stone?

And then, the boy reached out to touch the names.

Kakashi knew that Uzumaki Kushina had her name on the stone.

_Oh fuck. _

He waited for the inevitable explosion, for anything, but nothing happened.

The boy just put his hands in his pockets, and…walked away. A slight hesitation in his step, and shivering, but that was all.

Nothing.

Waiting until Naruto was gone, Kakashi shakily leapt down from the tree he'd been perched in, stumbling towards the memorial and collapsing on his knees.

"Shit, Minato-sensei, Obito, Rin…" He leaned forwards, resting his head on the cold stone. "What do we do now?"

The reaction had been so atypical, so _not-_Naruto, he didn't know what to say. The only thing he could do was do what he'd always done; report to the Hokage.

And hope that the old man would hear his warning before Naruto got to him.

-o0oOOOo0o-

**Author's Notes: **

*looks at previous chapter's reviews*

*looks at other chapter's reviews*

*faints*

So…many…reviews…. Thank you so much, readers!

That said, while I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, I feel guilty about my previous chapter, which I turned in too short and very, very late. So, here is a new section of story, up to my standard of eight pages.

Hopefully, writing more than this will get easier as time goes on.

I'm considering killing off Namiko soon… Mostly as a plot device, partially because I don't like OCs, and also because I don't want the Hokage finding out too soon; with her professional medical opinion backing up Kakashi's he's more likely to investigate.

I'll probably introduce Iruka next chapter… maybe as a run-in at the Ichiraiku ramen stand, I dunno.

What do you guys think?

Till' next time,

Port in the Storm.

**Posted May 24, 2010**


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